Resolutions 2014

A new year but with the same hopes

AOG, Madrid

My Christmas vacation started off with me flying to London a few days before and ended with me flying back to Madrid from Barcelona airport a couple of days ago.

In between both airports, as is customary since I relocated to Spain and met my other half, we spend part of the holiday season in the UK, both in London and in rural Oxfordshire, and part of it in northern Spain, mostly Bilbao and coastal Cantabria.

Then, once the family duties are done, we relocate to the Catalan coastal town of Sitges for a couple of days of rest before facing the year ahead. Yes, we both end up shattered and fatigued after all the travelling, the gifting, the emotional encounters with family, friends, each other, &c.

I left sunny Barcelona and landed in a cold and rainy Madrid thinking about the year ahead. About my career, my life, my plans. The challenges ahead, the things I’ve left behind.

I realised that, basically, since my 20s, I’ve been consciously trying to do the same thing, year after year: achieve something.

Achievement is, naturally, defined and applied to whatever new task happens to pop up in my life, and it is not always reached… though I have been known to surprise myself.

I was talking to a friend of mine just after I got back to Madrid and the subject came up: New Year Resolutions.

Only last year, and for the first time ever, I actually took out a piece of paper and wrote down a few lines.

I forgot, or redefined, or lost, most of them as the year landed squarely on my lap and brushed aside most of my good intentions.

But two in particular kept popping into my head throught the entire 12 months the year lasted.

First, writing.

My actual resolution was to write 12 short stories in one year. One per month. That did not happen.

I ended up writing about 3. But then I also co-wrote a script for a short film, and, back in November, I participated in NANOWRIMO.

No, I did not finish a 50K word novel in 30 days.

But something else happened. I took up an old, forgotten, sci fi novel I had started to write in my very early 20s.

Along the way, it has grown, changed, and been re-started a couple more times.

But, for the time being, it is incarnating itself semi successfully. I’m not sure about when I’ll finish it, but I want to continue writing it. This is an achievement in itself.

Unfortunately, those things which always get in the way of writing (you know, life, work, shit) are still there.

I had this idea that I could do some writing during the Christmas season. I even took my laptop all over the place in the off chance I would get some time to do a bit of writing. No such luck.

However, that thing I do when I write, think about the story, did went on. I kept thinking, and have kept thinking, about the story, the characters, the twist, throughout.

Then my partner told his 12 year old niece that I was writing a novel, and two days later she was asking me about it. She is the only person who actually knows what it is about, other than me. And the best compliment was when she told me she wanted to read it.

Of course, at the tender age of 12, she got a ‘doctored’ version of it. And She may have to reach 17 before she can actually read it. But I’m glad she was interested.

www.fofothing.com/polo

The other thing I wrote down has a lot to do with me personally.

I wrote down “Be more sociable”.

Not that I am not sociable. I love society. I love socialising. Meeting friends. Doing things. Going places.

But unfortunately, I am not always in the mood to do any of that. Usually because I am tired. Or not interested on what is being offered. Or unwell. Or whatever other cheap excuse I can think of to redeploy inside and stay home and not see anybody during daylight hours…

However, more and more, this past year I tried continuosly to put my initial distate for the things I dislike aside, and endeavored to concentrate instead on enjoying my friend’s company whenever it is offered -which is often.

Unfortunately for me, I’m still too stupidly shy, or coy, or reticent, or whatever the hell is wrong with me, to actually call friends up and seek them out.

Yes, that thing that normal people do on a regular basis I tend to find difficult. Not always. Not all the time. But now and again. Here and there.

But, throughout 2013, whenever somebody called me, whenever I saw their name on the phone’s screen, I did my best to just pick up and agree to meet, putting all of me aside and just doing it.

I can’t say that I did that all of the time. But I did do it. And certainly I did it more often than in 2012, or 2011.

Perhaps I take my cue from my mother. When we were kids, she was the eternal social butterfly (Gemini).

Her social calendar was always chock-a-block with dates, parties, dinner engagements, social events, etc.

But I also recall how she used to complain that she needed time off. I remember how people would call home and ask for her, and she would sometimes say in a low voice, or just mouthing the words, ‘I am not here’. 

And the message would be passed on.

It wasn’t that she wasn’t tired, she just wanted to be left alone for a short while. She needed some ‘me’ time.

These days she has become very much a hermit, and her social calendar is mostly devoid of dates, other than whenever my sister and I ask to see her.

Nevertheless, last year she told me very clearly she was not flying to Spain to see me on my birthday.

She had a long list of excuses, but basically, she is not where she was when she was in her 20s or 30s, or 40s.

She is aging. She is somewhere else.

But back to me.

Last year I was able to combine my social life, such as it was, with my writing. I would meet with friends from the writing group I belong to and agree to set up a writing time and date. Usually a Saturday afternoon, somewhere in one of the city’s cafés.

This allowed me to write, to create, and be social, at the same time.

Onwards to the new year.

So, this year, my resolutions have not been written down yet, but those two will certainly head the list.

1- Write. Finish the novel. Do the short stories. Continue going to the writer’s group once a week.

2- Be more sociable. Even more. And again. One more time.

And I’ll add a couple more.

Exercise some more.

Watch my weight.

Make more friends. One can never have enough of those.

Read. Yes, read. A writer writes. Also, a writer reads. And reads a lot.

By the author of this post. Ralph Lauren, Fall 2o13.

Draw.

Create.

This one has been on my mind for a couple of months now.

I started doing some fashion illustration last year sometime in late September.

The drawing bug is within me once again. 

I’ve even thought about setting up a blog to upload the sketches. Maybe even invest some time in learning how to fully operate Photoshop, or even learn about Corel Draw.

Be healthy. Live healthy.

Improve my career. Move to Barcelona to be closer to my partner. These, in fact, go hand in hand.

Acting. Don’t give up on improv, in spite of all the problems and drawbacks concerning the course.

Join a choir and sing some.

Blog more in the abscence of all else.

I have even considered going back to University, although this last one belongs to late 2013.

I have to decide on whether I want to do a doctorate, which I do but have no time for.

Or start a new degree, which I do but have no time for. Psychology is always very appealing.

And it is only January!

Why I Love Pinterest

Dammit…I’m hooked again.

AOG, Madrid

I am weak. I admit it. I wish I weren’t but I am. I caved in. Like Oscar Wilde before me, I too can resist anything, except temptation.

Ever since I wrote a post about it (see here), I have been thinking about going back.

About just sucking it in, ignore their awful customer service, their threatening past behavior, their bullying and short-sightedness, and just, for the love of all that is good and pretty, open a new Pinterest account.

So yesterday, in a moment of weakness, and under a different email address, I did it. 

I typed www.pinterest.com, and created a new account.

The feelings which went with it were similar to those you used to get as a kid when you got away with something you were not supposed to be doing.

At first anyway.

But soon enough they gave way to feelings related to the hoarder in me, the collector in me. 

The curator. 

The aesthete and the lover of art.

I could, again, enjoy ‘playing’ Pinterest.

My first board? Fashion.

The second one? Men.

The third? Automobiles.

Then Ar(t)chitecture, then boards related to Mexico, Spain, Japan, Russia, France, Great Britain. Soon after, I decided to separate one old board into two: iLLUSTRATION and aRT became: Illustration, and a separate board for Art.

I’m taking it easy about the other boards. 

I’ve created some which I have yet to pin anything unto, and some which I’m thinking about, but…

Like, should I have a separate board for the fashions of different decades?

How about 1950s cars?

Should movie posters just be under Illustration, or should I have a board for them? 

How about fashion illustration?

How about men’s shoes?

On their own or just under Men’s fashion (baptised as ‘Suits you, Sir’). 

Perhaps it is early days yet, but I’m glad I’m back –though it doesn’t take the resentment away.

I’m glad I can enjoy the idea that is Pinterest, even if I think its owner/manager, is a prude.

Life…always so contrary…n’est ce pas?

 

Revenge. Forgiveness. Us.

Behold the power of resentment…

AOG, Madrid

A couple of days ago I met up with a couple of friends. New friends. People I had just met but which seemed to have struck an equal chord with me.

So there we were, at Café Figueroa, Madrid’s first openly gay coffee shop, establised as it was in 1981, talking about things.

We spoke about the current economic crisis, Spanish politics, the influence of Germany on Europe’s economy, the phantom (or prospect) of Catalonia’s and Scotland’s independence, and after all this, we began to talk about childhood. About our experience of life as gay children.

Our stories, although they were lived out in different cultures, different places and countries, were still extremely similar because of the homophobic element of our peers.

Turns out, (surprise!) that children are little homophobic monsters, just like their parents.

All children? No. Not all children.

Part of our conversation versed on the fact that a small group of bullies had decided that we were gay and had, somehow, a God-given (or Santan-given) right to make our lives hell, but, also, not all children. 

 Not all of our classmates. Only some.

“The usual ones”, said one of my new friends.

He then went on to talk about how it wasn’t just children. He told me a horrible tale about his youth in a small town in rural Spain, about 15 years ago.

Image taken at the ARCO Art Fair in Madrid, 2006.

Turns out that around the age of 18, he told his friends that he was gay.

“They all ran away from me on the spot. I don’t mean that they stopped talking to me, which came the next day and continues to this day. I mean that as soon as they heard the words they took off. They ran away!”

He then told me that he did the same, trying to get to his house before the gossip came in through the airways and his parents found out about it from other people.

He didn’t tell me about what his parents told him at the time. He just went on.

“What amazes me most is the fact that they could not wait to tell every one in town about it. Including my boss. They all got into a car and drove all the way to the bar where I worked, which was in another town. They went and told my boss I was gay. And when I got to work, I was told I no longer worked there.”

I was aghast.

Of course, he left town soon after.

Why?

Well, the locals would do that thing which tends to happen in small towns. Not so much make his life hell, but just talk about him whenever he walked past. Criticise him in front of his parents and family. And their friends.

And he moved on.

 

So I asked, ‘did you ever talk to them again?’

He said yes, one of them. A couple of years ago one of his friends walked up to him when he was visiting his parents, and started talking to him. He was getting married and invited him to the wedding.

‘Did he apologize?’, I asked.

“He did, but I didn’t accept his apology. I don’t need it.”

And at that point we started a different conversation.

On the one corner, one of them arguing on behalf of his partner, and on the other me, arguing for forgiveness.

“They don’t need to be forgiven. Shouldn’t be. They were cowards.”

“But don’t you think that it takes a lot of courage to say you are sorry?”

“Maybe so, but what about what we go through? They should have known better.”

“But think about the time you were 18, or 8, aren’t you sorry about some of the things you did?”

“Yes I am, but less so about those I did when I was 18.”

“But 18 is still pretty much a kid.”

“I don’t agree. They should have known better.”

“But they only reflect what society does with us.”

“Exactly. So now we do it.”

“But if someone is asking for forgiveness… they are suddenly giving you all the power. Suddenly you have the upper hand. If you don’t forgive them, then you are exacting revenge.”

“Then that is what I’m doing, but that is not what I’m doing really. I am just not forgiving something which should not have ocurred but did.”

“But then you are just resentful, that can’t be healthy.”

“I disagree. We are talking about something I don’t need. I don’t need their apology. I have, we have, lived without it for a long time, so that now, if they offer it, it is just without meaning.”

“But it does have meaning. Especially to them.”

“Doesn’t matter. Not to me. Do you need to hear the apologies of those who made your childhood hell?”

“Well, I’ve never been in that position, but I would love for it to happen. Not because I want to forgive anyone in particular, but because it would signal to me that they achieved a certain level of maturity, and that they realized they did something which was very wrong. I think I would forgive them right away, like I think I do when somebody says they are sorry.”

The conversation afterwards pretty much remained along those lines, and then he, my new friend, began to tell me his reasoning behind the ‘apology’.

“He has children now. Two boys. Maybe now he is thinking that one of them could be gay. That it could happen to him. And that is why he apologised, not because he felt bad about what he did, but because he is probably afraid that it might happen to his own children.”

www.fotothing.com/polo

And then, he also told me –and here human nature did amaze me a bit– that he had had an opportunity to “wreck” one of his ex-friend’s life, but didn’t. And wouldn’t.

“One of them asked me once not to say anything about what I had seen. And I didn’t. But I wasn’t planning on doing so anyway. It is none of my business, and it’s his life anyway.”

“What was it that you’d seen?”

“I’d seen him at a gay bar in another town, canoodling with another man.”

“And…”

“And he still lives in our town, and is married and has children. And every time I go there he goes out of his way to avoid me, and looks shit scared to see me.”

Our conversation ended about 30 minutes after all of this went on.

We were trying to be nice with each other since we’d just met, and clicked, but here was this different approach to this situation.

We just accepted that each of us had a different way of looking at things, and moved on.

We didn’t fall out but there was a different perspective which was at odds with the perspective opposite. I could tell there was a lot of resentment in what one of them had told me, and his partner had merely defended his partner’s point of view, although hinting here and there that he too had a similar tale to tell. 

As do most gay men and women today.

I write this not to judge them in any way, since we all have to walk our own path.

I write this because I liked the fact that, in spite of it all, we all try to be good people, except we all define ‘good’ in a different way. I would not ever say that these guys were anything but good, in as much as I can tell about somebody I’ve had coffee and a conversation with over the space of a couple of hours.

We all try to do the right thing, however we define what that is, and in spite of so many things.

And although I might be very adept at accepting apologies, I wonder about what I would have done if ‘incriminating’ information about one of my childhood torturers had come into my hands.

Would I be so benign?

 

Making Friends

AOG, Madrid

It was easy (ish) as a kid, a teen, even in your early 20s…but now?

 

I remember one of the first things I ever learned about myself, and it came straight out of my mother’s mouth.

“If he doesn’t have any friends, he is not going to do well in school.”

Was she right?

Well, ever since she told me this around the time I was seven, I have been fighting with her insight.

Does having friends ensure that you do well in school?

How about work?

Does having friends at work help or hinder your experience? And your output?

Of course, as a child, most- if not all- of your friends were the people you went to school with. A child has a very limited exposure to many social situations and is completely dependent upon parents to socialize to a large extent.

As you grow older, the bulk of your friends is still school-dependent, but, depending on your social interests (among other factors) you find that you have made a few friends outside of school. Maybe you joined a club, or you made a good friend during the summer.

Things like that.

Then comes University, or College, and, again, your social experience is still the main provider of friendships.

And then, one day, in your early, mid or late 20s, when you find yourself at your first jobs, your friends from youth are mostly gone and in their place are other people. People that, if you are “lucky”, have things in common with you.

Or, if you are “lucky”, have nothing in common with you, but you still enjoy each other’s company.

But then you get older. And your life changes. And you change.

But, if you are “lucky”, you still need people you like around you.

You need friends.

But those social networks which provided you with them, and enemies too -lest we forget- are no longer there.

With age you realize that making friends is now a bit more difficult. You realize that you can’t talk to people much younger than yourself because, well, because they all talk crap at that age. Just like you did. Or didn’t.

Now to that mix, add a spoonfull of ‘relocating to another country’ and half a liter of ‘doing it again in your late 30s’ plus a pinch of ‘and your partner lives in another city’.

Now…would you like fries with that?

Yes, moving to another country is as exciting as it is daunting. I now live in Spain. People here are very friendly, but in Spain, as anywhere else on this planet, most people have lived where they live most of their life. Their friends from most of their life are still here, and they are probably well-stocked in that area.

And here comes you, trying to enter that hallowed circle of friendship.

How does one do that? How do you penetrate someone’s circle of friends successfully.

Well, never mind that, my basic question is: how do you make friends later in life?

I have no idea.

If there’s a formula, I never chanced upon it.

I’ve been in Spain for seven years now, and, yes, I have some friends here and there.

Some of my friends happen to live in Barcelona, where my partner lives and, yes, most of these started out by being my partner’s friends, not mine. I am their friend by association, but friend nonetheless.

And here in Madrid I have some friends too, which I have fought over tooth and nail to make.

Some from my Masters, some from a social group, some I met through other friends, some others I met in French class. Some I just met on the street, and many are just expats (and no, not mostly British).

I cherish every one of them, but still I seek more friends. Like-minded people, not just people I have something, or a lot of things, in common with, but people who are like me.

Yes, it may sound ridiculous, but finding people like you is one of the most important things in life.

And what are people like you like?

Well, they are however you wish to define that, but basically, they are like you.

They are like the kind of people you say things like ‘people like you and I’ to.

Those people.

Like you.

So, just last week, through the power of the Internet and a dash of facebook, I met somebody I’d like to be friends with, but probably won’t be.

And she is the reason why this got written in the first place.

Let me tell you about this.

Last week, facebook advertised a page aimed at expats living in Spain who had things they wanted to get rid of, or sell. A sort of second-hand notice board for foreigners in the country.

Basically, if you came to Madrid to live 5 years ago, and you are going back home, you have to sell those Ikea bookshelves and CD collection which only you like. Plus your books.

You may end up throwing it all away, but now, thanks to the magic of the internet and the powers of facebook, your stuff can become someone else’s stuff.

So, there I was on the page, scrolling down to see what was there, hoping to find something I may like. And there it was: somebody was selling a surround sound system for €50.00

Me and another ‘user’ began to badger the owner of the product for a couple of days. One could come, one could not; then it rained; and it was sunny; then I was stuck in the office; and the other one seemed to pull out of the race, blah blah blah.

In the end I was the lucky one.

I went to her place, met her, her husband, and her baby. And really liked her.

After the whole transaction (I am now the proud owner of a Yamaha surround sound system for an incredible price and the cost of a cab ride home) was over, I went home thinking to myself, so… how would I go about befriending this nice person?

The usual fears and anxieties crept in.

She may think I’m a psycho. Or weird. Or any other number of social inequities may pop up in the equation.

Should I say something? Keep quiet?

Is she even in the market for a new friend?

A couple of years younger than I, and a mother, she may have no room or desire for new friends.

What should I do? Tell her I’d like to be her friend? Just move on?

If she were American, this process would be rather easy, but she is British, and as with all things UK, there are social procedures, nuances, and a myriad of unnavigable venues one should keep in mind so as not to make one big fat faux pas… and scare her off.

Age, in this respect, is beginning to be slightly burdensome.

Or perhaps not so much age but rather a clear, easy-to-follow,lack of befriending protocols.

 

Lady Gaga

AOG, Madrid

A new song from her album proves to be yet another borefest.

Lady Gaga; we all know of her, and her new album -ARTPOP- has been one of the most waited-for items of the year.

But will it be worth the wait?

Well, it is hard to say.

First we had ‘Applause’, which left us more or less not applauding, and now, although not the ‘official’ second single (that honor will go to ‘Venus’ it seems), we have ‘Do what you want’, featuring R. Kelly.

So…what does it sound like?

 

The single starts off to a pseudo 80s electrobeat, and it does get you excited.

 

You start to think yes, this is going to be good!

But then she starts to channel Christina Aguilera in the worst possible way and it quickly turns into one of those songs which sound like any other song that didn’t make it. 

And you start to get bored.

And then R. Kelly kicks in, mellowing the song out, and you, as a listener are left wondering if this is a Gaga single, or a Kelly single. 

The whole thing sounds like two songs combined in a non-fortuitous way.

Why did she collaborate with him?

Is she looking for a different kind of Monster to join her club? 

I’m all for that, but please, make sure the music is up to scratch. 

This song, in my opinion, just isn’t. And when you listen to R. Kelly you soon realize why not. But by then you realize just how bored you are, and how little you care for this non-catchy tune.

Click here for the YouTube link.

I almost dare not say it, but is Lady Gaga incapable of writing a good tune unless it is Madonna-inspired?

If we take this song as an example, the answer would be a loud-sounding, NO. 

As far as a tune is concerned, this is very much neither here nor there. 

Too familiar to be a hit, and too samey to be really original.

So is ‘Do what you want’ a hit?

Not if all you want to do is turn it off.

Sorry Lady Gaga, but this is not up to scratch.

Gaga Fans, fear not, I’m sure somebody somewhere will ensure that, just like with ‘Applause’, the remixes will make this turnip of a tune into a dance hit somehow.

 

 

Homophobia, and just as we know it…

AOG, Madrid

The gays have never had it so good, so they say, but they are so wrong.

I live in Madrid’s gay village, Chueca. What used to be one of Madrid’s run-down and drug-crazed neighborhoods was, in the early to mid 1990s, turned into the city’s gay neighborhood par excellence.

Most people will tell you that it was because of its shady past that the area became a haven for gay people.

A haven in that society in Spain, as elsewhere, has always equated homosexuality with crime, sin, and all of those other goodies Christianity, and other monotheistic religions, seem to think their particular deity dislikes.

So when you are confronted with a fresh batch of just-baked homophobia on the streets of a gay neighborhood, you have to ask yourself just how far gay people haven’t come.

A week ago I was out shopping around my neighborhood, getting ready to meet some friends at my place later on in the evening. I was crossing the street when, from a distance, I saw a guy coming towards me. 

His appearance was not exactly run-of-the-mill, but then, this was Chueca, and here nothing like that really raises an eyebrow. 

His hair, which mainly consisted of jet-black braids, was up in a bun, and he had a scarf round it, keeping it all in place. He was muscular, as could be gathered from his half unbuttoned shirt, and in a hurry.

He swished past me at high speed, and I gave him not another second’s notice.

And then it happened.

I noticed a small group of people walking towards me. Two girls, maybe around 7 or 8, were giggling, making faces, and pointing at him. 

And one said to the other:

“Is it a man or a woman?”

And the other said:

“Yeah, what?”

And their mother, or the mother of one of them, in case they weren’t sisters, replied:

“It is a ‘that’!”

And they all laughed.

As they walked past me, I noticed the husband-father figure pushing a baby’s stroller, and noticed he was keeping quiet.

As this family walked past me, I overheard a gay couple saying out loud that the only ‘that’ on that street was the girl’s mother.

I have to say that I was aghast at having witnessed the entire scene. Disgusted.

Later on that night I was entertaining some friends at my place. We talked about many things, including homophobia, gay rights, sexuality, you know, the sort of thing that comes up when gay men and straight women (and one of their boyfriends) get together. 

One of them said something along the lines of “but surely the next generation will be less homophobic.”

Well, did I ever have a story to tell!

They were all really shocked to hear it. Surprised. In awe. Especially that this should happen in Chueca of all places.

And I just said that if it was happening in Chueca, could they imagine what must be happening in the less-trendy areas of Spain?

Last Friday, October 11, was National Coming Out Day in the US and several other countries. But not Spain. It is perhaps not necessary since the country was one of the first ones to institute full gay marriage, so a National Coming Out Day is not deemed -or at least not yet- necessary.

But coming out, for all its good intentions, is such a horrid thing to have to do. Not that there’s anything wrong with it, there isn’t.

But, when was the last time somebody informed you that they were straight?

When was the last time a straight kid was bullied for being straight?

Or somebody lost his/her job for being straight?

Never you say? That’s right. Never.

It is a horrible feature of our time that people still have to make some sort of public declaration of their sexuality when it does not fit the heteronormative bias.

Some people I know, those who think they are so trendy and with it, always say things like “but what does it matter? Why do I need to know somebody is gay? It doesn’t matter to me!”

I always say to them, it matters, and you do, and it should matter. And I am always surprised that people think otherwise.

It is not my place to educate people about sexuality, but when confronted with situations such as the one I witnessed a few days ago, I have to say that a little part of me died that instant when I saw that Spain’s next generation will be homophobic too (and when I say Spain, I mean the entire planet’s next generation and generations).

That those girls will probably taunt and make fun of one, or more, of their classmates deemed by them to be gay. That their mother will be totally ok with that behavior.

And that some poor kid, who may or may not be gay, will be bullied because society still has not come to terms with the simple fact that gay people exist, and that we have a right to be respected, and more importantly, just be left alone.

Yes, gay people have come a long way. At least we are not being burned at the stake these days (though in many countries we are hanged and persecuted just for being gay), but that does not mean society is where it should be on this issue (and oh so many others!).

We have come a long way, but we still have such a long way to go…

 

 

 

Tony Law, comedy, but not as we know it...

AOG, Madrid

Last Saturday I went to see a stand up comedian called Tony Law with a couple of friends here in Madrid.

He is Canadian, and, according to a quick internet search, he is very funny, up-and-coming (although he’s been doing stand up for about 14 years) and the winner of numerous comedy-related awards.

So, what did we think? Well, I have to say that my friends -one of them Canadian- and I have mixed feelings about the whole thing.

First of all, it doesn’t help that the guy who introduced the show was drunk, or high, or stung by a bee, or whatever.

He manages Giggling Guiri, a business in the business of bringing English-language comedy talent to Spain.

It is less than cool to be drunk when presenting an act. It is also rude.

The last time I saw one of their shows (Giggling Guiri's) it was at a smaller venue, and the guy at the time was very very funny, and the presenter wasn't drunk.

Was Mr. Law as funny as that other guy?

Well.... no.

He may be a comedy genius back in the UK, and he may have his friends and family in stitches when at home, but when presented with an ex-pat audience in Spain, he bombed.

Slightly.

Especially during the first half.

It isn’t that the material wasn’t funny, parts of it were funny, but his general attitude was that he sort of knew we didn’t know who he was and he sort of realised (before we did) that we would not find him all that funny because we didn't know who he was.

Now, like any self-fulfilling prophecy, he was right.

But only because he did little to alleviate our fears and even less to make us laugh.

His delivery was ok, except that at times you had the feeling that he didn’t really want to be there and that he didn’t really know what he was doing. It was strange seeing him pace the stage, play with his hair, and look like he was trying to remember his routine. His arms were usually up in the air for some reason, and his shirt went up, and you noticed, time and again, that he was wearing yellow underpants. And no belt.

He mumbled a bit, and then he would throw a statement in the air, hoping it would land on friendly territory. It did,  but the throw was such a mess that we weren't sure what to make of it all.

Was that part of his act?

I don’t know, but if it was, it didn’t work all that well on the audience. He was just that little bit too random to connect with the public. That little bit too...disinterested. Perhaps he thought we would be a walkover?

And what about part two?

Yes, that was slightly better, except for the odd fact that some of the jokes were rehashed from part one.

Why?

No idea.

During the intermission between both parts, I walked to the bar and chanced upon a conversation between somebody who was obviously a Tony Law fan, and an innocent bystander.

“He is fucking brilliant but nobody knows who he is”, he said.

That, I guess, was his excuse as to why Mr. Law was not as hilarious to him (and the rest of us) as he normally might be. Or as he thought he was.

So, according to him, it was our fault Tony Law sucked.

I went back to my table and mentioned this to my two friends.

Our general comments were that him being known did not make him more or less funny. Funny makes you funny, whether you are famous or not (and according to the Huffington Post, he is 'surreal').

So part two started, and we thought things would improve.

No such luck.

Yes, there were the jokes about sheep being domesticated back in the ‘olden days’, and his children being Vikings (yes, we already heard that 20 minutes ago, thank you), and a few quips about the audience which only made you feel even more that he didn’t really like being there.

I would not say he tanked, but he came close.

He continued pacing up and down, made a quip about thinking of a joke on the high-speed train from Barcelona to Madrid (btw, here's a tip, telling an expat audience that the people in Barcelona suck is about as effective as telling a Spanish audience that people from Manchester suck) and continued to play with his hair and remember what he was going to say next.

He finished, he said good-bye, and there was no encore.

We didn't see him again.

It was like a weird aftertaste all in all.

Like we had pissed him off somehow because we weren't laughing. Or maybe he had to pee. I don't know. 

On the positive side (and yes, there is one), it is obvious that Tony Law would have done better with a different sort of audience (one more alcoholised perhaps?) and in a different country, but you get what you get and run with it, and he didn’t really do that.

Also, and this is very important, he managed the most obtuse of hecklers masterfully, so he obviously is a pro at that sort of thing.

And he can do accents more or less ok, though his own accent is very British for some reason.

I mention this because Tony Law didn’t sound very Canadian, but then he does live in North London, in a small flat, with a wife and three kids.

One of them a 4 year old 21 year old. That, the surreal part, was funny. When it was there.

And he had very interesting hair.

He likes to move it from side to side in a sort of I’m-still-young-look-at-me kind of way. 

If he were young it would probably work better.

As would his outfit.

Baggy trousers with a crotch line near the kness usually look bad even on the young, so imagine how they must look on someone who is middle aged!



I think what bothered me the most, was the fact that we paid €15.00 a head for an act which was not too interested in entertaining his audience and, when he did, he was funny, yes, at times, ok, but not €15.00 worth of funny.

Having said all this, should I be in the UK, and should he be playing somewhere in London (since for me London is the whole of the UK), I will probably go and see him.

Just to make sure he is as funny as the online reviews say he is.

Classic 60s TV

  AOG, Madrid

There’s something about it which makes me keep coming back for more. But why?

It was my birthday a couple of days ago and my partner had a gift vooucher which expired on the same day. We rushed to Barcelona’s FNAC to get me some sort of quick-lets-not-waste-it! last-minute gift. 

First we went to the book section, and the book I had in mind, one about one of Spain’s best illustrators from the 1930s, Carlos Saenz de Tejada, was out of stock. So we went to the CD section. Couldn’t find anything I liked -these days, with Spotify on my mind, I buy less and less music.

So off to the DVD section.

Yes, I’m one of those people who likes buying DVDs, and I especially like television series. And these days, I am especially hooked on those series from my childhood, which were not exactly of my time. What do I mean?

I mean that when I was a kid, my television programs were mostly 1950s cartoons, and 1960s series.

I Dream of Jeannie, Bewitched, Gilligan’s Island, Batman, Get Smart, Daniel Boone, The Flying Nun, Petticoat Junction, The Beverly Hills Hillbillies, The Outer LImits,That Girl!, The Lucy Show, Lost in Space, The Dick van Dyke Show &c.

 

So, when given a choice between Modern Family (3rd Season) and The Twilight Zone (Season 1), I chose the latter.

I suppose that having a degree in History predisposes me towards these, for me anyway, visual documents of another era.

I enjoy looking at how those cars I used to dislike as a child, but love as an adult, moved. I like seeing how people drove. How they dressed, what they ate. Even how they spoke. Television English is a very interesting thing to listen to. So different from today’s colloquial television English — where everybody has a California accent.

Acting, obviously, has changed a lot since then too. When a woman (and it is always women), has a breakdown in 1960s land, she often falls into the arms of a man, then everything is ok.

In 2013, she goes on a drinking/screwing/shoplifting binge.Then a man turns her in the right path, and everything is ok.

I like the furnishings of the homes, the way the clothes move, the games children played. As I kid, I am not sure I understood at first that these shows were from the 1960s. In many cases, the shows themselves were in their teens back then, it was the beginning of syndication. 

We all know how I Dream of Jeannie had a bigger audience during re-runs in the 1970s than when it actually aired.

But it is more than just the visuals. It is the ideas of the time. The anthropological aspect of these shows is astounding. Not many black people, respectable women behaved and dressed in a certain way. As did men. To say nothing of the worries and issues of the time.

Watching 1960s Sci-Fi TV is also very enlightening. 

Lost in Space dealt with being shipwrecked in an alien planet, a similar concept to Gilligan’s Island. In both shows a group of people must survive and overcome their respective personality traits in unfamiliar territory.

What were the worries of the time? That Earth would blow up and we would fight for our survival? That a group of strangers who met on a boat would be able to survive on a desert island? That the rich can be of help? That a robot can both be our salvation, as well as the instrument of our destruction?

And what about traditional gender roles? And the idea about what constitutes, and what doesn’t, a family? Ideas surrounding friendship, and, of course, the supernatural.

These ideas are, today anyway,less of an issue on television, but that does not mean they are not out there, that we have stopped thinking about them, but our worries are different. We no longer worry about the superpower conflict, but we do worry about being killed by a terrorist. Or about being kidnapped and being retained against our will. Or being shot by a psycho sniper. Or…

So many things are going on today that looking at old 1960s tv is a very definite form of escapism. But also, a source of intrigue. 

Were people back then not worried about issues like our own? Being worried about death, about being abducted and killed, about abusive parents, alcoholic partners, about rape and incest, about poverty, were more than likely things people thought about back then, but, for a variety of reasons, were not talked about, or dealt with.

So when I watch these shows, I am obviously doing so for more than just one reason. It is not just leisure, it is not just curiosity, it is also a certain concern with the missing parts.

The complete abscence of gay people, the limited appearence of black people, the almost complete abscence of any other minority, of a social discourse.

Why weren’t those things talked about?

In reference to being asked about the significance of the French Revolution, Zhou Enlai -Communist China’s premier from 1949 to 1976- is often quoted as having said that, , “it is too soon to say”.

I can’t help but wonder if this is still the case with the 1960s today. As a historian, I would agree. And as a Journalist, I would disagree.

 

100 shades of scandal: Rajoy & Co.

AOG, Madrid

After doing their best to stop the inevitable, and then only after the opposition threatened to stage a vote-of-no-confidence in Parliament, Spain’s ruling Conservative Party, the Partido Popular, and its leader, Spain’s PM, Mariano Rajoy, have agreed that Mr. Rajoy will attend Spain’s Congress to give some sort of explanation about the current political situation in the country.

Although at first he and his party, given their majority in the chamber, ensured he would not, and could not, be forced to show up to be questioned, once the opposition, and more importantly, the foreign media, started to criticise him and began to acknowledge that Spain’s economic recovery might be affected by the PM’s absence, they have staged a U-turn, but one in which Mr. Rajoy ensures everyone that he goes because he wants to and not because he is being forced to go.

Mr. Rajoy, who has enraged the media by staging press conferences at party headquarters in Madrid in one room, and sitting the media in another, all facing an internal broadcast of the proceedings on a plasma screen, has also been in the difficult position of having to answer journalists only during the courtesy press conferences organised whenever a foreign politician visits Madrid.

Of course, whenever this happens, the Spanish media do their best to get the Prime Minister to say something about Spain’s current political scandals – and there are many. 

Surprisingly, during the visit of Romania’s president to Spain this week, it was a Romanian journalist who, in almost perfect Spanish, asked Mr. Rajoy about these, to Rajoy’s, and everyone else’s, surprise.

 It is expected that Mr. Rajoy will go to the Cortes, as Spain’s parliament is known, in August, to give some sort of explanation. 

Nevertherless, critics have already expressed their fear that the prime minister will talk mainly, or only, about Spain's economy and avoid any questions related to the Bárcenas scandal.

Given the latest batch of confessions from the Popular Party’s ex-treasurer, Mr. Bárcenas, statements which point at Mr. Rajoy directly, the level of expectation is very high.

There are many questions which he is expected to answer, although he has already made it clear that he will attend the Cortes to talk about Spain’s economy, and give his “version” of the events, to everyone's chagrin.

Surprisingly to all, Mr. Rajoy has done his best to avoid saying Mr. Bárcena’s name out loud in public, or referring to him in any way, yet nobody seems to know why this is.

And what are some of the most pressing questions in the air?

Well, here’s a few that should be considered.

1-Did Mr. Bárcenas pay him €45,000 in undeclared (black) money?

The ex-treasurer has told the judge that in 2009 and 2010 he paid both Mr. Rajoy, and the Conservative Party’s General Secretary, María Dolores de Cospedal,

€45,000 as undeclared ‘premiums’. 

Thus far the Prime Minister has denied having ever received illegal payments from him. 

Back in February he publicly declared that he had “never” received nor given out “black money in this party or anywhere else”. 

Months later, however, Mr. Bárcenas accused Mr. Rajoy of just this, going as far as explaining that he gave him the money in €500 bills in a brown envelope.

One of Spain’s top newspapers, El Mundo, has published a story whereby Mr. Rajoy may have been receiving illegal payments during his time as Government Minister, from 1996 to 2004. 

Accoring to Mr. Bárcenas, back then the money was given to him inside a cigar box by then treasurer, Mr. Álvaro Lapuerta.

2- Was the Partido Popular financed illegally?

After denying it over and over, Mr. Bárcenas told Judge Ruz, that he indeed was the author of what is known as the ‘Bárcenas papers’. 

A group of documents and ledgers which kept track of all payments within the party and which showed a “parallel” accounting system for the party’s finances. 

Hence, the party’s accounts guardian suggests that the party has been illegally financed for over 20 years. 

The PP has continuously denied that this has been the case and has had its “official” accounts audited by Spain’s Accounts Tribunal. 

Nevertheless, as the Spanish media have pointed, it is hard to audit what they call these ‘B’ accounts.

3- Will he resign?

All of Spain’s opposition parties are clear on this question, Mr. Rajoy should resign. According to the main opposition party, the PSOE, Spain’s Socialist Party, the Prime Minister cannot remain in power when facing the type of accusations his ex-treasurer is making. 

Nonetheless, Mr. Rajoy has said during a press conference that his intention was to see his Administration out and spoke about the need for stability and of his Party’s majority in the Cortes ensuring his presence there. 

However, many in Spain question this and his continued presence in Moncloa Palace, the official residence. 

There is even talk, although it is all very hush-hush, of who will succeed him. 

Among the names being mentioned is Spain’s current Vice-President, Soraya Sáez de Santamaría, and Spain’s Justice Minister, Mr. Gallardón, Madrid’s former Mayor. 

Soraya Sáenz de Santamaría and Alberto Gallardón

4- Will there be any political repercussions?

Thus far, none of the political VIPs mentioned by Mr. Bárcenas have resigned or even made any sort of move that suggests they would. 

The Conservative Party’s ruling body is ignoring all accusations and likes to flaunt its presumed innocence on the matter. The party’s Secretary General, Ms. Cospedal, has said she feels calm and is “looking forward” to collaborating with the legal process. 

In spite of the ‘Papers’ alluding to payments made to many of the party’s top dogs, none have thought it necessary to leave their positions, including Mr. Javier Arenas, the party’s Vice-Secretary General, or MEP, Mr. Jaime Mayor Oreja. According to the ‘Bárcenas Papers’, the main beneficiary of the undeclared ‘premium’ payments would have been their electoral consultant, Mr. Pedro Arriola, who is reputed to have received up to 1.5 million Euros cash, according to El Mundo newspaper.

5- Why did Mr. Rajoy deny that he had been in contact with Mr. Bárcenas?

Back in January, Mr. Rajoy said publicly that he could not remember “the last time” he had seen Bárcenas. In spite of his bad memory, he continued to be in contact with his ex-treasurer through the recently-revealed spat of SMS, one of the dated as far as last March.

Mr. Bárcenas

 Even though they were not seen together, they did keep messaging each other and Mr. Rajoy told him to "be strong". 

When he goes to Parliament, he will have to explain himself on this issue.

6- Why was Mr. Bárcenas made treasurer of the Conservative Party in the first place?

Although he won’t even say his name now, it was Mr. Rajoy who named Mr. Bárcenas party treasurer. He had been the all powerful power-behind-the-throne up until that point and he substituted Mr. Álvaro Lapuerta. 

Ms. Cospedal has called his appointment a “mistake”. He will be expected to explain why he was given that job in the first place.

7- Is Spain’s PM being blackmailed by Mr. Bárcenas?

After the SMS were made public, Mr. Rajoy declared -in a Louis XIV "L'état, c'est moi" moment- that the rule of law (the State) will not be blackmailed, prompting the opposition to declare that it, and the rest of the country, cannot be expected to keep track of a continuous daily stream of revelations. 

 Where once the PP supported its ex-treasurer, it now wants nothing to do with him and many are worried about what he may say against Spain’s Prime Minister.

8- Can the Government’s ‘Brand Spain’ be damaged by scandal?

The idea of Spain as a brand, what they call ‘Marca España’, has been one of Rajoy’s biggest projects, intended as it is to improve the country's image abroad, especially where international investors and money markets are concerned.

Thus far, the ‘Bárcenas Affair’ has been on more international media than any other Spain-related topic. 

Media as influential as The Economist and The Financial Times have warned of the risk to the PM that this scandal represents. 

Whilst Rajoy insists on his electoral majority (something he does as justification for all his party and ministers do) and on the country’s stability as his biggest pillars of support vis-à-vis the EU, the presence of Bárcenas has already gone beyond Spain’s borders and many people are starting to look at Spain differently with who knows what sort of economic and financial repercussions.

9- Did he know about the donations from major construction and other big business firms?

The relationship between Spain’s conservatives and big business is another case in point. For example –according to Bárcenas– Mr. Juan Villar Mir, president of OHL, a large multinational construction and civil engineering company, wanted to donate €300,000 in a very public manner before the 2011 elections and was very interested in Mr. Rajoy knowing this.

10- Were any documents destroyed at Conservative headquarters?

According to Mr. Bárcenas’ sworn declarations, he gave Mr. Rajoy a list of the people who had been in receipt of these ‘premium’ payments (and what these amounts had been) once he was asked to leave the party’s treasury. According to  him, the now PM put the list through the paper shredder.

11- Denial and proof?

Thus far, Spain’s Popular Party has denied just about everything Mr. Bárcenas has told Judge Ruz, even though Mr. Bárcenas has turned in several original documents. Mr. Rajoy should show his own proofs that these documents are not what they appear to be.